


A Proportional Response

by msermesth



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Ultimates
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Steve Rogers, Cancer, Cap_Ironman Holiday Gift Exchange 2017, Carol is over this shit, Cockblocking, Deepthroating, Emotional Constipation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Internalized Homphobia, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pining, President Cap, Sub Steve Rogers, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Top Tony Stark, anthony - Freeform, neck fixation, or is President Cockblock am I right?, they do it in the lincoln bedroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-17 12:52:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13077270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msermesth/pseuds/msermesth
Summary: Steve doesn't have a reason for cock-blocking Tony.No reason, whatsoever.





	A Proportional Response

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mitochondrials](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitochondrials/gifts).



> Mitochondrials asked for Steve walking in on Tony during a sexual escapade, and then cock-blocking Tony as a means of handling his feelings. So, this is set during the ‘Reconstruction’ storyline, because President Cap would be the ultimate cock-block. Just imagine President Steve “America is my White House” Rogers actually had to do presidential things, like move into the White House.
> 
> Usual Ults warnings apply—Steve’s internal monologue is peppered with casual sexism and he’s not a 100% comfortable with his sexuality (he's less worried about being queer than he is worried about engaging in certain gay sex acts, hence the ‘mild internalized homophobia’ tag); Tony sleeps around a lot, drinks more often than that, and is still suffering from brain cancer.
> 
> Unbeta'd, so I'll love you forever if you point out any typos.

 

“Mr. President? Do I have your attention?” Carol demanded more than asked, and Steve turned from the window of Air Force One to look at her.

“You want me to speak to the Chinese President about the upcoming intellectual property treaty,” Steve responded. It wasn’t a question. “I heard you the first hundred times.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” She was annoyed at him, or at least more annoyed than usual.

“I was considering all our options, and I don’t think it should be me doing it.” He wasn’t any sort of expert on the subject, and there was someone else he thought could do the job better. “Would you excuse me?” he asked, and without waiting for Carol’s exasperated response, he walked down the narrow hallway to the back of the plane.

Steve had originally resisted traveling on Air Force One. Why would he when he had access to much faster quinjets? But that was before Tony had made some necessary adjustments to the plane. Since he had accepted the honor of serving as his country’s president, he had found that few people had managed to make the job any easier, but Tony was one of them. In fact, Steve was sure Tony enjoyed Steve being president more than Steve did.

Which was very easy, because Steve _absolutely_ hated it.

It had been Tony’s idea to give himself an office on Air Force One. He rarely used it, but on the rare day that the world wasn’t ending and there wasn’t some sort of SI product launch, Tony liked helping with the governmental minutia, and Steve liked it when he helped even more. He was surrounded by sycophants and yes-men, and with the exception of Carol, could trust none of them to give it to him straight. For Tony, at least, ‘giving it to him straight’ was one of his trademarks.

Which was why Steve was just about to knock on Tony’s office door to ask him to meet with the Chinese President when he heard a choked off moan. He dropped his hand and began to lightly push the door open while hopefully avoiding the temptation to jump in, metaphorical guns blazing. If something awful was happening to Tony, the element of surprise could come in handy—no matter the situation, whether it be Chitauri or just Texas separatists.

What he wasn’t expecting, and in no way prepared for, was the sight of Tony’s head bobbing up and down around the dick of one of the flight attendants. The man was leaning against the desk, with Tony on his knees in front of him, and at this angle, Steve saw the entire thing in perfect profile. That included the way the man was gripping the desk, how Tony was using his free hand to apply pressure to the bulge in his pants, and most transfixing—the way Tony stretched his lips around the cock and kept taking it further and further into…

… his throat. That was his throat. Holy _fucking_ hell. There was a small moment where Steve was sure Tony was to gag, but then he did a small swallowing motion and Tony took it even further, all the way, until his lips pressed against the man’s pubic hair.

Steve wanted to intervene, but nothing about the situation indicated that Tony was in some sort of distress. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself quite a lot, and it went against the unspoken men’s code to meddle in such things.

That didn’t stop the unexpected revulsion that passed through him and settled low in his gut, however, and it took all the focus he had to back away slowly. His skin felt hot all over, and he was beginning to breathe heavier than normal, and sensed the beginning of an erection he tried to will down by internally repeating the contents of the latest Ultimates’ mission report.

When he finally felt right, he turned around to find Carol right behind him wearing a strange expression. He supposed he would, too, if he saw himself backing down the hallway. “What is it?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“There’s been a situation in Detroit—nothing too serious, but SHIELD wanted me to inform you they’re about to put some of their people in the field,” she responded.

Steve’s jaw set as he recognized a very familiar need to move his body; he wanted to hurt someone; to feel a jaw crack against his knuckles. How dare these men threaten his country? “Where are we now?”

“A little north of Thunder Bay,” she responded.

A plan formed in his head. “I’ll do it.”

Steve watched as a very familiar sigh escaped Carol. “You need to stop dropping into active situations whenever you can. You’re the president.”

“I know exactly who I am.” Like he ever had the chance to forget. “And I won’t be alone.” He looked behind him and the rest of the plan fell into place. “I need Tony…” he began but he instantly hated how it sounded and said, “… Tony’s _flight capabilities_. I need his flight capabilities.” If he didn’t bring Tony, there was no way he could make it in time, he told himself.

Carol huffed and began to walk away. “Okay, Sir. You do what you’re going to do.”

Glad he wasn’t going to have to waste any time auguring it further, he turned around and knocked hard on Tony’s office door. He heard some swearing and a crash before Tony opened the door, just enough to poke his head and somehow looked rumpled and buoyant at the same time. Steve absolutely didn’t look down to see if Tony was still hard. “What can I do you for?” Tony asked, and Steve’s guilt instantly faded away when he heard Tony’s rough and gravelly voice.

“There’s a situation in Detroit. I could use your assistance.”

“Count me in. I serve at the _pleasure of the president_ , and anyway, who could resist those baby blues?” Tony purred, and nothing about the way Tony’s eyes lit up when he said that made Steve think he was being sarcastic. “Just, uh… give me two minutes to… um, suit-up.”

“You have one minute,” Steve responded, and he crossed his arms while Tony closed the door. Steve tried to focus on possible combat plans and not whatever was happening out of his sight.

Tony took a total of fifty-seven seconds to open the door again, this time in the Iron Patriot suit and ready for action. Something about it made the tension flow out of Steve’s shoulders.

It was because they were going to punch bad guys, Steve told himself. It was entirely, completely about punching bad guys.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Mr. President, I’m interested to hear what are your thoughts on the current proposal by Senator Jemsen to change the tax code—”

“On no uncertain terms would I sign that bill if it reached my desk,” Steve said, his eyes catching something in the distance. He had been distracted all night, and no matter how much he tried to focus on the people demanding his attention, his eyes were always searching the crowd. Steve was in Raleigh attending a fundraiser for all the victims of the Carolina War and he _knew_ that Tony should have been there, too. The problem was that in the two hours Steve had been shaking hands, he had yet to see him.

Until now. Tony was halfway across the room and talking with a blond woman in a tight dress. They were laughing about something Steve couldn’t possibly hear, even with his super-soldier hearing, but something about the joke led to Tony placing a hand on the woman’s uncovered lower back and drawing her closer.

Steve was transfixed by the sight of the two of them talking and his eyes kept drifting to Tony’s Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down. Without his control, he was at once reminded of the sight of Tony’s throat working around the attendant's dick. Something about that thought made his tie feel too tight, and he tried to yank it loose as well as he could, his hand inexplicably lingering against his neck.

He yanked it away as soon as he noticed he was doing it and waved off the man talking to him as he walked a straight line towards Tony. From this far away, Steve could see as Tony pulled her closer and whispered in her ear and he knew he only had minutes before he would see the two of them slip away for thirty minutes, only to return rumpled and even more pleased looking.

“Tony, can I speak to you?” Steve asked the moment he was close enough to be heard without yelling.

“Oh! _Mr. President_ , have you met Theresa?” Tony always said ‘Mr. President’ like he was unwrapping a Christmas President.

The girl’s eyes reached her forehead. “President Cap!”

“Nice to meet you ma’am. Would you mind if I stole Tony for a while? I need to talk to him about…” Steve racked his mind for something when he realized he didn’t actually have a reason for being there “…tax reform. We need to discuss tax reform.”

Tony looked at him strange for a quick second before turning to the woman next to him and without any hint of disappointment, saying, “It was nice talking to you, but you know how it is,” and he gestured at Steve, “duty calls.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just so honored to meet—” But they were walking away before Steve heard what, exactly, she was so honored about. He didn’t particularly care.

“Steve, darling, I’m not sure I’m up for another argument now,” Tony said.

“Hmm?” Steve grunted as he was not very sure what Tony was talking about.

Tony placed a reassuring hand on Steve’s arm. “Could we have our little tax debate tomorrow?”

Oh, right. Tax reform. Steve looked back at the spot Tony and Theresa had been standing in and felt self-conscious. Why the hell would he want to talk about taxes at the moment? He had no idea where the last four minutes had come from and it made him feel ashamed. “I’m sorry I took you away from your date.”

“Her?” Tony scoffed. “She’s nothing. Lovely woman, runs a charity that gives puppies to underserved schools, or something like that. Also, I think she has a slight armor fetish, but who doesn’t?” There was a twinkle in Tony’s eye that was more than just the martini in his right hand. “Anyway, it’s a long party, no reason I can’t get to know her later.”

Of course, Tony wouldn’t have to do more than strut up to her, say something that managed to be funny and sexy at the same time, and girl would just trip over herself. Steve had seen it time and time again and his anger flared up at the thought. “Actually, this can’t wait.” Steve began to walk towards the wall and away from the crowds, where Tony would be able to hear him better. “Now, I know you have strong opinions about eliminating the corporate income tax…”

Steve hadn’t realized it before, but they really did need to have this discussion right now.

And if it took the entire party, well, that was his duty to the American people.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Cap, please tell me you know it’s Friday. Is an Ultimates training exercise really necessary right _now_?” Clint grumbled under his breath and Steve wasn’t sure if was meant to hear that or not.

Either way, he did, and responded, “We’ve been getting rusty. Tomorrow could be the end of the world, and I don’t want it to be because we weren’t prepared.”

Clint rolled his eyes and Tony leaned into him to whisper, “ _You’re_ upset? I had to cancel with Katy.”

Steve _definitely_ wasn’t supposed to hear that, but he smiled. Tony would be fine without her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Steve sighed as his advisors filed out of the oval office. He was exhausted but restless and he desperately wanted some quality time with the heavy bag in the basement.

The door opened and interrupted Steve’s fantasies of slipping out undetected, through the immediate need to hit something left when Tony threw open the door. It returned, just as quickly, when he saw the beautiful woman that followed him. “Mr. President?” Tony asked but didn’t wait for an invitation as he poured himself some scotch from the decanter by the windows and then draped himself across the couch while motioning for the woman to sit. She remained standing. She wasn’t familiar, but then again most of Tony’s conquests weren’t. “I’d like to introduce you to Lieutenant Jenny Wiscowlski.”

Steve stood up from where he was standing behind his desk and walked to the over to shake the lieutenant's hand. He was too dumbfounded to say anything until he was right in front of the woman. “Army?” he eventually croaked and noticed that Lieutenant Wiscowlski had a firm handshake.

“Yes, sir.”

Tony hadn’t budged from his place on the couch. “I thought you’d like her,” he said, and Steve expected him to look more pleased than the thoughtful frown on his face. “Lovely Jenny here is the Army’s current liaison to Stark Industries. She’d been helping us troubleshoot a new protective personal armor vest, and we just happened to be in the neighborhood, and it turns out she’s never been in the White House. Can you believe it? So, _of course,_ I had to remedy that as soon as I could.”

The girl was shaking. “I’m so sorry sir, I had no idea, or I would have dressed—”

Steve cut her off before she passed out due to nerves. “At ease, soldier. It’s fine. This is practically Tony’s second home. I appreciate it when he treats it as such.” And he really did, most of the time. At the moment, however, Steve had a strong inclination to read Tony the riot act.

“Any-hoo… I was hoping to give Jenny a little tour. You know, show her the west wing, the residences, maybe the Lincoln Bedroom.” Tony winked, not even trying to hide what his end goal was.

A familiar anger flooded Steve when he thought about the two of them having sex down the hall from where slept on the rare nights he didn’t just pass out on the couch or the quinjet. Steve shot him a look and if Tony realized Steve was upset, he didn’t show it. “I’d be happy to show you around,” Steve offered.

“I don’t think that would be necessary,” Tony began but Steve continued like Tony hadn’t made an objection.

“It would be my pleasure,” Steve said, and he felt defiant for some reason he was pointedly not paying attention to. This was about protecting the sanctity of the White House and not keeping Tony from having sex.

Honestly. That was all it was.

The lieutenant, bless her, meekly croaked out, “really, you would do that?”

“Of course. Anything for a fellow soldier.” He felt ashamed as he watched Tony’s face fall, but he didn’t change his mind. “So, the room we’re standing in right now is the Oval Office,” Steve began and then realized he had no idea what he could show them given that he had no interest, at all, in his new home. “Now if you follow me, I could show you… uh… Carol’s office.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You have a meeting with the Iranian ambassador at three, the Secretary of Energy at three thirty, and a signing ceremony for the health care bill at four,” Carol said, defiantly standing despite all the times Steve had told her to sit.

“And what time is it now?” Steve asked. It felt like the first time he had had an empty few minutes in weeks.

“Quarter to three.” Steve could see Carol was gearing up to argue with him to just _stay put_ , but Steve had no interest in complying.

“Has Tony left yet?” Steve shuffled some papers around on the desk, and tried not to look as self-conscious as he felt.

Carol sighed. Steve had a feeling she knew something he didn’t. “I make a point of not keeping tabs on him when I can help it. So, I wouldn’t know.” Carol was holding her glare, but Steve knew she wasn’t telling him everything she knew, and he could glare harder. With a much louder sigh, she rolled her eyes and finally acquiesced. “Last I heard, he was in the residence.” Steve stood up and had almost made it to the portico door when Carol called, “You can’t be late to this meeting!”

Steve waved her off. If he was late, she would handle it.

It wasn’t hard to find Tony—he was lying flat on his back on the couch in the main room of the residence. He was either sleeping or, more likely, just talking to Anthony with his eyes closed. He did that sometimes when he thought no one was looking and as Steve watched him, he couldn’t help but think how vulnerable Tony was. He looked healthier than Steve was used to seeing him, but that only meant he was on the upswing. Steve didn’t need to be a doctor to know how precarious Tony’s health situation was and it made something in his chest ache that Tony might not be here, laying on his couch, next month.

It made him feel like a little girl every time he thought it. They were two of the founding members of the Ultimates. They had almost died more times than Steve could count. Hell, they could die tomorrow fighting aliens and Steve didn’t worry about that. So why was he always so anxious about this?

“I know you’re there, darling,” Tony said without opening his eyes.

“You weren’t sleeping?” Steve asked, already knowing the answer.

“No, had some important processing to do before the trip.” Tony lifted himself up so that he was sitting and rubbed his eyes. He looked exhausted.

Steve joined him on the couch. “You should sleep, though. You need it.” He had never been concerned about another person’s sleep patterns before. It had to be coming from the same place as his anxiety about Tony’s health.

Tony just rolled his eyes. “Yes, _mother_. That was what the vacation was supposed to be for.” There was just a hint of sharpness in his words and Steve felt the guilt he had be avoiding for months now. It wasn’t that he was guilty because had requested Tony represent the White House at a technology summit in Cape Town; that just made good sense. No one else Steve knew could do a better job at that.

But Steve wasn’t stupid, and it was telling that he hadn’t asked Tony until _after_ he had heard about Tony’s vacation with whoever _People_ had just declared was the Sexiest Man Alive. If every time he thought about Tony with another person made him feel dread, that had to mean something, right?

“Not that I planned on doing much sleeping, actually.” Tony’s smile was filthy, and that line of thinking made Steve wish he was anywhere but there. And that included the meeting with the Iranian ambassador. “I was so looking forward to fucking that hunk.”

Without any ideas on what else to do, Steve cleared his throat.

Tony looked at him with the same filthy smile and Steve _just knew_ he was blushing. “Want to talk about whatever is making you uncomfortable, Mr. President?”

“No.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Steve muttered. He didn’t want to _think_ about it, either, yet the idea of Tony bending over some faceless movie star and ramming into him while he screamed for more was what his mind wanted to dwell on, apparently.

Tony wasn’t going to let up. Steve could tell he was in one of those moods where he wanted to scandalize everyone. “Is it the gay sex part of it or the anal sex part of it that makes you uncomfortable, darling?”

Homosexuality didn’t upset him. In the Army, Steve had served with men who he would have gladly laid down his life for, good soldiers and good friends, and if they had sought out relations with men instead of women, well— _judge not, that you may not be judged_. It wasn’t even that Steve was immune to the charms of a good-looking man; there certainly were few that made the rounds in his fantasies. If Tony didn’t know that, it was because it wasn’t the type of conversation Steve thought was appropriate to have with his friend. “The… the other one,” Steve said, and he walked to the window in order to avoid looking at Tony.

“You’re not being very descripti—”

“The second one,” Steve took a deep breath. He had been in the army. He had regularly heard worse things before breakfast. “Anal.”

“Oh! You’ve never done it?” Tony’s voice was gleeful and had none of the panic Steve was feeling. Instead, it sounded like he was excited to discuss one of his favorite subjects.

“No, um, I haven’t,” Steve said and then asked the question he’d been wondering about on and off since he had been aware of the concept. “I get how, how being on the one end could be… satisfying. But, the…uh… other thing, I just don’t get it. How can that feel good?”

Tony’s expression softened, and Steve had a feeling that Tony knew he was being genuinely curious and that it was a struggle to convey that curiosity. Of course, he did. “Trust me—it does. It’s hard to explain. First of all, the prostate is amazing, and I’m depressed you haven’t experienced that. Secondly…” Tony trailed off, thinking about what he was going to say next and then continued without shame, “it’s like being full. Like the air is being knocked straight out of you, but if you do it right and take your time, it won’t be because you’re in pain. It’s… it’s nice. It’s nice to share with someone else.”

Steve’s throat was tight and he followed up with another question he had been unable to stop asking himself since he found out Tony regularly dated men. “Do you, is there, I guess what I want to know, if you have a preference. I mean, if it’s normal for one to have a preference?”

“Me?” Tony had the gall to look surprised, but he meant nothing by it. “My preference is pleasure, and a happy lover. There is very little I prefer beyond that. Though, I am really curious why you’re asking me all these questions.”

“Nothing, it’s… nothing.” Steve took a couple of steadying breaths and imagined what it would be like to try something like that with Tony. He wondered if Tony inside him would feel different from just being close to him. What would Tony’s face look like when he entered him? Everything about it was exhilarating and terrifying and instead of dwelling on it, he tried to change the subject. “Shouldn’t you be packing right now?” He asked when he noticed there weren’t any suitcases around.

“Gorgeous, I haven’t packed for myself in a decade.”

“Then where are your suitcases?” Steve asked and tried very hard not to focus on how Tony said _gorgeous_. Tony said things like that all the time. In fact, there were many things Steve was trying very hard to avoid focusing on, like how the silk suit Tony’s wearing was suggestively rumpled and or how his tie had been yanked down and his last two shirt buttons were open, revealing inches of Tony’s neck. It was just late enough in the day that Steve could see stubble bumps forming where his five-o'clock shadow would arrive by the end of the evening. He tried to remember what Father McDonnell had told him so many years ago in confession—the easiest way to avoiding sinning was not thinking about the sin in the first place—and pried his eyes off the sight.

“In the jet, ready to go whenever I am,” Tony responded and did not look like he was in any hurry.

Steve huffed. They had talked about this. “I thought I told you to take Air Force One.”

“Oh, you did, I just would rather take my own plane. It’s quicker and has a much better bar.”

“But Air Force One is much safer and—”

“Mr. President, are you worried about me?” Tony asked and his ‘fake-causal’ was neither fake or causal sounding.

“National security,” Steve grumbled. If he had a better explanation he could also verbalize, that would have been preferred. The truth was that Air Force One came with its own flying escort and required a guest list to be submitted a week in advance for background checks. Tony’s favorite jet was yes, much faster, but attracted groupies like ants to a lollipop melting on the sidewalk.

“Aww, darling, it’s so sweet of you to worry about me.” Tony didn’t look impressed, however, and he began to tighten his tie while Steve tried not to stare.

“Why are you even here?” Steve asked and despite all his effort, it still sounded petty.

Tony just walked up to him and patted his cheek. “Everyone knows it’s good luck to say goodbye to the President before you leave the country.”

Steve blinked, confused. It was a joke, he knew it, but it was a bad enough one that it threw him for a loop. “Tony, you flew to Paris yesterday just to get cookies—”

“—Macarons,” Tony corrected him and continued, “and I saw you in New York before I left. Plus, I made sure to bring some back for you.” That was true, Steve had eaten the whole box last night. Tony did things like that, things that made it seem like Tony never forgot about him. It made him feel flat footed, and he wasn’t sure what he needed to do to remedy that. “Either way, you’re five minutes late for your meeting with the Iranian Ambassador,” he said, coming so close within his orbit that Steve had to focus on a spot above his head to diffuse the way his heart pounded while Tony straightened Steve’s tie for an excruciatingly long time, and eyed the whole of him critically. Steve had the impression he was being preened. “Now, make a good impression. Peace in the Middle East depends on it.”

And then, with that and a thousand-watt smile, Tony was gone and Steve felt over his head in every way he could conceive.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Steve, I’d like to introduce you to someone,” Tony said as he tugged his arm aside and dragged him down the ruined street. For some reason, Wyoming-based terrorists thought it was a good idea to stage an attack right outside Steve’s front door.

Steve and the Ultimates had another idea about that. Thankfully, while the bomb had gone off, no one had been hurt. The only thing left was to clean up as much as possible so that everyone doing cleanup after them had an easier job.

“Tony, I was in the middle of something…” Steve began to say. It must have been the first time in a week he had been in uniform and he would have preferred lifting boulders to meeting whatever donors Tony had been trying to court.

Tony rubbed his shoulder in an effort to discern him. Sometimes, when he did things like that, Steve was convinced that Tony was completely aware of his weird crush. Steve certainly didn’t let anyone else drag him around. “It’s important to me,” Tony explained, and Steve stopped worrying about whether or not he was being too obvious. Tony was asking him for something and Steve wanted to oblige him. He quietly followed Tony as they passed the throngs that had lined up along Pennsylvania Avenue to watch. “Mr. President, I’d like to introduce you to Dr. Clara—.”

“Oh,” Steve grunted at the same moment he felt a lead weight hit the bottom of his stomach. She was… beautiful, but not in the way many of Tony’s other girlfriends were beautiful. She was older, older than Tony at least, and Steve swore he had never seen her on TV before. She must have been special.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. President,” the doctor said as she offered her hand. She didn’t appear nervous at all and Steve got the impression she had met many presidents.

“You, too,” Steve said. It wasn’t her beauty that was throwing him for a loop. That came part and parcel with all the men and women Tony went with. What was leaving him feeling unbalanced was the way Tony kept looking at her, like she was the most important thing he had seen all day.

Steve had been slowly beginning to pull the pieces together that explained his own increasingly strange behavior, but this was the first time he recognized that he actually felt _jealous_. It was an ugly feeling, equal parts anger and shame that made him want to claw at his skin and finally exhibit some control over his feelings.

“Clara was actually a doctor of mine when they discovered the first tumor. She’s practically an oncology superstar.” She didn’t try to humbly disagree with Tony and Steve was sure in other circumstances he would have liked the woman and her self-confidence. He certainly liked that she was probably one of the few people capable of saving Tony’s life.

Steve turned back to Tony, and asked “Does this mean you’re back in treatment?” The idea gave him hope. He had been under the impression that Tony was no longer seeking medical help for his brain cancer.

“What? Why would I do that?” Tony scoffed, and Steve’s hope vanished.

“Unfortunately, Tony has been adamant that he doesn’t need a doctor,” Clara said, and Steve could tell she was almost as sad about that as he was.

“Why? Is this about Anthony?” asked Steve, even if he had already realized the answer.

Clara narrowed her eyes. “Who’s Anthony?”

“His tumor,” Steve responded, “They’re pretty close.”

“Huh?”

She looked confused, so Steve continued on and said, “uhhh, Tony talks with him, Anthony’s good at solving problems. I think he functions like an extension of Tony’s brain, what’s that the phrase you use…” Steve looked over at Tony in prompting, but Tony was surprisingly quiet. “Parallel processor?”

Clara was looking between both of them like she could shake out more information the faster she did so. Tony seemed struck dumb and almost… embarrassed?

That wasn’t good; Steve shouldn’t be talking about this. Within the Ultimates, Anthony was just another part of the team, but it hadn’t struck him that Tony might not be quick to tell everyone else, particularly someone he was trying to date. “I didn’t mean that,” he tried to say in an effort to save the conversation, but he couldn't think of a way to end that sentence and protect Tony. “It’s not like that,” was the best he could come up with.

“No, no, no, it’s exactly like that, it’s… it’s…” Tony said, and Steve could see his defenses going up and the agitated way Tony bounced when he needed (not only wanted) a drink.

“It’s actually kind of marvelous,” Steve added to draw attention from Tony’s stammering. He meant it, too. Tony took what should have been a death sentence and just made himself stronger. How many times had Anthony been essential to saving the world? It was extraordinary, when you thought about it.

And maybe Steve thought about it too much. But they were friends at least, close friends, bonded forever by all the battles and near-death experiences and late nights talking about the future of the Ultimates. When he woke up he wouldn’t have thought that an alcoholic playboy would become his rock—yet that’s exactly what had happened. Hell, who would have thought he would ever be standing there and mourning the ‘something more’ he’d never have.

“Tony’s…” Steve paused, unsure of how to put any of it into words. _There isn’t anyone like him_ didn’t sound right. Or it sounded _too right_ , but not convincing enough. It was all flowery and silly and made him feel like a girl gushing in the privacy of her diary. “He’s a good friend and a good soldier,” said Steve, with as much finality as he could muster. He was done talking about it.

“Soldier?” Tony asked, and he sounded confused as he stared at Steve with an intensity he normally saved for his many inventions.

Being under so much scrutiny made Steve uncomfortable and he bounced from foot to foot, mirroring the all the manic and nervous energy Tony was projecting.

“Anyway, I’m sure you have better places to be, Mr. President,” Clara said, and she looked a little dazed.

“Right,” Steve agreed and carefully avoided Tony’s eyes before he turned around and ran back to the explosion site.

He still heard Tony say, “I need a drink.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You ready, Mr. President?” asked Carol. She was waiting by the door for him, wearing a dress Steve would have described as ‘scandalous’, but having been awake for ten years, now believed was rather tame.

He was sitting at his Oval Office desk, pouring over national security intelligence and trying to figure out which threat to American freedom deserved the most attention. “Carol, I really believe we need to do something about the whole Madripoor thing. If I leave now—”

“Cap—” Steve looked up when he heard her use his preferred title. “The most pressing problem that needs your attention is in the East Room. We need you clarify our rela—”

He cut her off. “I know,” he said. “Just give me a minute.” Carol sighed and left, understanding an order when she heard it. It wasn’t that Steve was avoiding the aggravating conversations he was going to have to make with the spattering of heads of state currently eating down the hall. Despite how unpleasant all that was, it was still his duty.

The problem really was that it had been five days since Steve had realized at the worst possible moment that he was in love with Tony, but since then, he hadn’t seen Tony once. Even when they weren’t on the same continent, Steve was used to seeing his face every day, if only over a computer screen. And Tony wasn’t even that far, if Steve’s intelligence was correct. Steve couldn’t remember the last time Tony had been in the tower when he could have been in the White House, breezing around like he owned the place.

So, when Steve earlier saw the final guest list, he knew, as much as he could when it came to that man, that Tony was going to be there. And for the first time since he could remember, he didn’t know what to do.

Tony Stark had broken him.

Steve sighed, stood up, adjusted his tie, and walked to the East Room. People, dressed expensively in unnecessary gowns and tuxedos, were milling around, making small talk and eating tiny snacks with names Steve couldn’t possibly begin to guess. A quick scan of the room revealed Tony and Thor, sitting next to each other and laughing loudly. Steve made a bee-line to them without much clarity as to why he was doing it.

“Steve! You’ve arrived!” Thor said as he stood and pulled him into a strong hug. “Now we can get the party started.”

“I don’t know why you would wait for me to do that…” Steve trailed off as he looked to Tony, staring back at him over the rim of a martini glass. Now that Steve understood what he was thinking, it was easy to admit to himself how good Tony looked. It was more than how his tuxedo emphasized his slim frame or the way his bow tie drew attention that beautiful neck. It was the way his eyes sparkled like he was on the verge of some major breakthrough.

“Well, we didn’t wait for you to start drinking, darling,” Tony said with a wink as he hoisted his martini.

Steve tore his attention from the spot right above Tony’s bow tie and looked at Thor. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” Thor had some very strong opinions about how long it was taking for Congress to approve the new climate change treaty.

“I wasn’t thinking of it, but then Tony called me up and asked me to come.”

“He’s my date,” Tony clarified and wrapped his arm as much around Thor as he could. The way Tony was leaning against him… wasn’t the way a man leaned against his friend, or even the way a drunk man leaned against bodily support. It was desire dampened only by the social construct that required them to keep their clothes on.

Steve’s mouth went dry.

“ _Date?_ ” Steve asked, though he didn’t need to know any more details. He absolutely did not need to know any more details.

Thor drew Tony closer, and said, with pride, “Yes, though when you think about it, it’s kinda obvious. Of course, two men, who fought beside each other for years, would finally realize how much they wanted to take the other apart with their tongues.” Tony’s eyes got wide. “What? Was that too much information?” Thor asked.

“No, no, no, no. Definitely not. That’s perfect,” Tony said and Steve’s chest tightened. He went to adjust his bow tie and tried to keep the horror off his face when he noticed that Tony had ducked his face into the crook of Thor’s neck. Steve could see, even from this angle, the way Tony’s Adam’s apple bounced as he mouthed into the skin there. It seemed like a lifetime before Tony remembered Steve was there at all and disengaged from what he was doing, only to look at Steve and make everything worse. “Well, we’re going to duck out now. We have… uh-hem… _places_ to be.” And Tony looked at Thor with a look that was so scandalous Steve gulped.

Steve sat down at the nearest chair and watched as the two of them snuck out one of the doors that led to the residence instead of outside. That was so much worse, Steve thought. Did they have to stay in the building and do this to him?

Of course, they weren’t doing this on purpose to hurt him, it just… felt that way. Steve steeled himself and stood up. He had a job to do and one that he had been neglecting to do to the best of his abilities.

Twenty minutes later, Steve was trying to advocate for the new cyber warfare agreement when Carol tapped him on the shoulder. “Can I steal him for a moment?” she asked the Russian diplomat Steve had been talking to. The woman nodded and looked happy to have an excuse to be anywhere else. Steve turned to Carol and knew she would elaborate without his prompting. “Are we expecting an attack of some sort?” she asked.

Steve didn’t know what she was talking about and he told her as much.

“Your eyes haven’t left the back door. You’re _clearly_ agitated. What the hell is going on?”

As a reflex, he checked the door again. It was irrational, it wasn’t that he didn’t know that. If they even were going to return to the party, Tony and Thor would waltz in whenever was convenient for them, and not a moment before that. But that knowledge didn’t stop Steve’s stomach from churning every time he thought about when exactly that was going to be.

Which was constantly. The last twenty minutes had been torture, and Steve knew torture.

Carol was tapping her foot. “What is it, Steve? Do I need to alert SHIELD?”

“No.”

“Is it Tony?”

That made Steve check the door again. “Why do you ask?”

“Because, no offense, Mr. President. But you’ve been _weird_ with him lately. And it’s beginning to be a problem.”

Steve only took a beat to think about it. “I agree.” This thing had been going too long. That realization was all he needed to make a decision, and he turned on his heel and marched towards the residence. He heard Carol swear behind him.

The time was over for pretending his interference in Tony’s love life was in Tony’s best interest. Thor was a good man, one of the best Steve would ever know, and surely, he would be a better person for Tony. This was Steve wanting Tony all for himself. It was selfishness, pure and simple.

That didn’t stop Steve from knocking on the door of the Lincoln Bedroom.

“Come in,” Tony shouted, and Steve could feel his heart in his throat. He opened the door and dreaded what he was about to see.

Which was… Tony, still dressed, mixing himself a drink, and Thor nowhere to be found.

Huh.

“I almost thought you were going to stand me up,” Tony said and there wasn’t a hint of a joke in his voice.

Nothing made sense. Steve was lacking some important situational awareness. “Where’s Thor?”

“Oh, he had better places to be.” Tony took a slow drink while he watched Steve carefully. Steve felt the attention in his skin, but something about it made him walk closer to Tony instead of out of the room.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Steve said, trying to be sincere despite the relief flooding his senses.

Tony cocked his head to one side and smiled. “Why?”

“It looked like…” But he trailed off because he didn’t want to say what it had looked like. What it had looked like had hurt too much.

“Darling, did you really think Thor and I were actually going to sleep together?”

“Weren’t you?”

“I love Thor like a brother. When I told him… he was happy to help me out.” Tony took long sip of his drink before putting it down. “And of course, when I brought it up, we fucked a couple of times, but only to get it out of our system.” He was inching closer and closer to Steve and his smile was slowly transforming into something Steve could only describe as ‘seductive.’ It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen that smile before—he saw it all the time.

Just never directed at him.

“I want to do this right,” Tony continued. “I’ve always wanted to do this right.” There was a challenge written across his face, but something about his proud smile made Steve think it was a challenge for himself.

“Do _what_ right?”

Tony was closing in on him and Steve found himself slowly backing up to keep a little decorum between them. Or at least he was trying to until his knees hit the back of the bed and he had nowhere else to go and nowhere else to focus on that wasn’t Tony’s eyes.

Even though Steve had an idea of what was about to happen, the kiss still knocked him off his feet. Literally—he lost his balance and sat on the bed, too engulfed with the sensation of _oh god, those are Tony’s lips and his tongue and fuck,_ to think more clearly. Tony took advantage of Steve’s new position and began to crawl into his lap and Steve, without much higher brain function, was happy to slide his hands under Tong’s thighs and help him.

Steve only broke off the kiss when his curiosity outweighed the rest of his better judgment. “So, you and Thor were never together?”

Tony laughed. “That’s what you’re hung up about?”

“I really thought you were.”

“I’m a really good actor.”

“Are you acting now?”  Steve asked and tried to mollify the terror sweeping over him.

“No,” Tony said and shook his head. Steve hadn’t realized Tony was possible of the small, shy, but honestly happy smile he was wearing.

That was all Steve needed to know to go ahead, and he used the hand possessively holding Tony up to pull him closer, so that any decorum between them was lost. Tony’s lips felt just like jumping out of a plane or running head first in a fight and Steve used the adrenaline to guide him. And Tony seemed equally excited, pushing Steve back further onto the bed until he was laying down and somehow managing to never put an inch between them.

Steve found that removing ties and unbuttoning buttons was a much more challenging task when doing it from the other direction and yet, unsurprisingly, Tony had an especially extraordinary talent at discarding clothing. It made sense, because of _those hands_.

Which was how Steve became entirely naked from the waist up while Tony remained fully clothed, with only a few ripped buttons to show for Steve’s frustration. Tony, sitting up now and straddling his chest, was running his hands all over Steve and Steve closed his eyes and let himself be lost in the sensation. It had been so long since someone had touched him like this, he couldn’t even remember what it was like to feel the way someone’s desire filtered through their fingers.

“You’re a work of art,” Tony whispered and the way he said it, awed and mostly to himself, made it feel like the truth.

Steve blushed, almost embarrassed by how nice it felt to be complimented than the actual compliment itself, and to divert Tony’s attention, asked, “I know I’m not one of the sexie—”

Tony didn’t even let him finish the sentence before pushing Steve further into the bed and taking his face in his hands. “Steve. People _was_ going to name _you_ the sexiest man alive. I just told them not to.”

“What?” Steve asked, dazed more by the proximity to Tony face than Tony’s admission.

“You’re the leader of the free world and one of the hottest men in existence. There is no one on this earth sexier than you. So, when I heard People was going to give you that silly title, I told them not to.”

“Why?”

“You would have _hated_ it.”

That was true. “And you just told them no?”

“I’m not sure you noticed, but I’m a very powerful man. I have the ear of the president, and all that.” Tony finished that sentence by ducking his head down and nibbling at Steve’s ear.

The sensation threw Steve off balance, and instead of laughing, he loudly moaned. He could feel, even though he couldn’t see, the way Tony’s mouth quirked up at that, before beginning to kiss down Steve’s neck, his shoulders, and his chest. Every touch felt amplified and Steve squirmed while he tried to keep his breath steady.

Tony continued and used those wonderful hands to unzip his fly, unbutton the three buttons keeping his pants on, and pulling them down to his ankles. Steve did his part and toed off his shoes and socks. Every so often Tony would shoot him one of those filthy smiles Steve had been daydreaming about, and he did it again before removing his boxers and taking Steve into his mouth.

The very act had been the subject of many Steve’s recent fantasies, and he was unable to look away as Tony slipped down, taking in more and more of his cock by centimeters, and keeping his gaze locked on Steve’s. “Wow…” Steve said, too stupid with pleasure to not sound as awed as he felt. “You’re amazing. Just… just amazing. This is just like I imagined.” It was better, even. Every time he had thought of Tony like this, he hadn’t accounted for just how warm and wet Tony’s mouth would be.

Tony pulled off and held Steve’s cock gently as he slowly tugged at it. “You’ve been imagining this?” Tony then licked a long stripe from the base of his cock all the way to the tip, before putting it back in his mouth and taking it so far, Steve swore he felt him swallow.

“Oh, fuck. Yes. Just like that.” Steve wasn’t sure what he liked more—the feel of Tony’s mouth around his cock or the sight of it.

Tony pulled off again. “Oh, please, do tell,” he said and then shamelessly continued.

“Uh… since… that time I walked in on you,” he began, needed a couple of tries to get it all out, he was so distracted by whatever Tony was doing with his tongue. “Before the Detroit… _oh yes, yes, please_ … incident. I saw you, uh, with that flight attendant, and… _fuck, that’s good_ … I couldn’t stop… I… I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

Tony removed Steve’s cock from his mouth with a _pop_. “Detroit? Was that the time it took only fifteen minutes to get the situation under control? The incident that was clearly below the Ultimates’ pay grade?” Tony asked, and while he was still running his hand up and down Steve, his eyes had narrowed. “Steve, did you cock-block me?”

“Huh?” Steve wanted Tony’s mouth back and he wasn’t following what Tony was saying.

“Did you interfere with me getting laid?”

“That time, specifically?”

“Steve…” Tony sighed. There was a moment in which Steve was sure Tony was just going to sit up and walk out, and he truly, definitely, hated himself right then for ruining his chance. But then the moment passed, and Tony shook his head and said, “I knew about the time with lieutenant, and that state dinner in Tokyo, and the time you insisted on coming with me to Vegas, and all the times you insisted I take Air Force One. And of course, all the extra Ultimates’ trainings. You know, I probably enjoyed myself more spending Friday nights running drills with you, then going out and fucking the next big thing.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve pleaded.

“You should be. That flight attendant had the most amazing dick, and you interrupted us before the best part. Still… I enjoyed flying around in the suit, too horny to steer, and waiting till I got home to have an amazing orgasm. Sometimes that’s good.” His eyes got fuzzy for a second as he reminisced. It took a couple of moments for him to light up and Steve had the impression Tony had just discovered something wonderful. “Oooooo… I have the best idea. A punishment, if you will.”

The way Tony said it made Steve shiver. It didn’t sound like Tony wanted to stop, or that he was planning his exit, or that he was even angry anymore, but that he had had a fun idea he wanted to share and as long as that was the case, Steve was in. “Okay, whatever you want.”

“Actually, it’s whatever both of us want, but I appreciate the enthusiasm. What I want to try, and you can say no, is—”

“Don’t tell me,” Steve rushed to say. “I trust you.” And he did. He trusted Tony with his life and the idea of letting Tony take change, with the added anticipation of not knowing exactly what that meant, was what Steve wanted. “I’m all yours.”

Tony thought about that and looked kind of awed. “I’m pretty sure that’s my line.” Steve could probably subsist on the smile Tony was sending his way. “Okay… just tell me when you’re about to come,” he said, before dipping his head again and licking the tip of Steve’s cock.

Steve moaned at that and kept moaning as Tony continued. Tony could fit every inch of him down his throat and the way he knew exactly how to create the right suction and did a thing with his tongue against the head of his dick and Steve never wanted it to stop. It was almost with disappointment when he felt his orgasm building. “Tony, Tony,” he scrambled to say, “I’m almost there.” But instead of pulling off so that Steve didn’t come in his mouth, Tony just took him further. _Holy Mary, Mother of God, in heaven_ , Steve thought when he saw it.

Just when he felt he was right there and going to come right  down Tony’s throat, Tony quickly pulled Steve out and pressed his thumb and forefinger right under the head of his cock. Steve’s eyes went to the back of his head at the pressure and he found himself backing away from the edge. It took a few seconds to catch his breath and when he finally looked at Tony he saw him grinning proudly. “You’re not going to come till I say you’re going to come,” Tony declared with a jovial finality Steve had no desire to question.

His whole body felt tingly and every touch, including the way Tony was mindlessly rubbing his thighs, felt sharp. “Okay,” he agreed, blindly and through a weird haze of pleasure. There was something nice about not having to think too much about what he was doing. Losing control had never been something Steve had been interested in. He was rethinking that now. “I’m along for the ride.”

“Steve,” Tony said, his tone serious, as he quirked his eye. “You’re not supposed to be just ‘along for the ride’.”

“What if I said I’m _eagerly_ along for the ride?”

“That’s better.” Tony lifted himself off the bed and Steve instinctively began to follow him, but Tony just pushed him back down with one hand. “Settle down, darling.”

So, Steve did, and was rewarded as Tony began to slowly unbutton his shirt. It was almost remarkable how Tony could make something as simple as undressing into a show, and from where he was laying down, propped up by his elbow, Steve had a front row view. Tony took his time with the shirt and his pants, and somehow even kicking off his socks became sensual. He hadn’t been wearing anything underneath, and Steve cocked an eyebrow when he noticed.

“Going commando is just my preference, _Mr. President_ ,” Tony said, drawing out Steve’s title. No one managed to say it with as much gusto as Tony did.

Steve huffed at that and let himself take all the time he wanted to soak in the sight of Tony’s naked body. He looked good, slight and full of muscle that he was clearly gaining back after the last round of chemo. And that cock…

It wasn’t that he didn’t think Tony would be into this, but being able to actually see Tony’s arousal in the flesh (as it was) removed all doubt. Steve wanted to know what it felt like, what it tasted like, and he reached out to do so when Tony crawled back on the bed.

“Yes…” Tony moaned when Steve got his hand around it. Touching someone else’s dick was strange. He never realized how soft and smooth the skin was and his first instinct was to move his hand like he would on his own, but this called for a different technique.

Tony didn’t seem to mind the amount of time it took Steve to figure out how to make the best use of his hands. Steve watched, enraptured, at the sight of Tony’s eyes softly closed and fluttering with every sigh that escaped his mouth. Everything had been going so fast before that Steve’s mind had barely any time to catch up, but something about watching Tony like this slowed everything down to the crawl he had wanted and gave him time to just enjoy being trapped under Tony’s thighs.

It stopped, of course, because all things must, and Tony used one hand to push himself far enough away from Steve that Steve would have had to get up to continue. “No, no, no, not yet,” Tony said, and he kissed his way down Steve’s body and nibbled at random pieces of bare skin until Steve squirmed. Once he was back at his earlier position, laying between his legs and grinning over Steve’s cock, he did the same to Steve’s thighs, slowly moving up until he reached the point to which every touch and kiss was sending shock waves. He went slow this time, and it was more like an elaborate tease than a blow job, but Steve still had to focus on his breathing and tried to will away the feeling of the pleasure building on itself. Tony didn’t stop, as he clearly knew what he was doing, and Steve was now making these embarrassing sounds that seemed to fit somewhere between a squeak and a moan. Tony’s hands weren’t still, either, and his fingers slowly danced around Steve’s thighs and his abdomen and sometimes dipped to below his cock to tease at the area around his balls.

It was during one of those times that the idea came to Steve, and even though he wanted it to disappear, it wouldn’t. “You could…” he started to say and tried to convince himself one more time to just be quiet instead. Maybe this was moving too fast. Tony’s head popped up and he looked at Steve with interest while never stopping mouthing the tip of Steve’s cock. That encouraged him and scared him in equal measure, but he went forward anyway and finished, “...touch me there, if you want.”

“Is there a place I’m not touching you?” Tony asked, but Steve could see the understanding across his features even before he finished the question. “Oh,” he said, soft and to himself, “that’s...wow,” and then more loudly, “are you sure?”

“Yes. I want you to show me what the big deal is.” Steve responded and even he was surprised that he was ready. Maybe, it was like jumping out an airplane—the time to turn back and pretend this wasn’t how he wanted the night to go was before he had gotten up in the air, or knocked on the door, or something like that.

Tony’s face lit up with glee cut with apprehension. “I’m going to make this so good for you. I’m going to take care of you, I can’t believe—”

“Uh-huh,” Steve said, mostly just to stop Tony’s babbling. Also, because Tony was still lightly stroking him while he climbed a over Steve’s form to reach for his pants on the floor and managed to break contact for only a few seconds when he had to lean off the bed to get them. He pulled a small clear bottle out of one of the front pockets, threw it back on the bed next to Steve, and returned to kneel right between Steve’s spread legs. Tony wouldn’t have brought the lube if this wasn’t how he wanted the night to go, either, and that thought made Steve shiver. Without any explanation, he pushed Steve’s right leg at the ankle so that it bent at the knee, and without needing to be told, Steve moved the left one the exact same way.

He got a smile from Tony, who said, “the key is to relax. This is going to feel odd at first, but be open to the fact that it could be good. And, please, please, please, take deep breaths.”

Steve tried to dull the anticipation and focus on Tony popping open the cap on the small bottle, and not the way Tony’s hard cock was bouncing against his stomach as he walked closer to Steve on his knees with some of the liquid on his fingers. It did feel weird when Tony pressed a slick finger to the skin directly adjacent to his asshole and proceed to push lightly against Steve’s clenching muscles, but mostly it didn’t feel like much of anything. Perhaps, just like a strange intrusion. Tony stared at him and Steve has a feeling he’s waiting for Steve to tell him to stop. “You okay?” Tony asked as he petted Steve’s thigh.

“I’m not going to break,” Steve said, impatiently, and then adjusted his hips so that he could push down on Tony’s finger.

Tony just laughed and at once Steve felt another finger slowly pushing in. “I thought you’ve never done this?”

Steve took a deep breath and tried to adjust to the feeling. He was beginning to understand the big deal. Everything, from the way Tony’s brow furrowed in concentration to the soft, gentle tug of his fingers slowly pushing in and out of his ass, was enthralling. “I haven’t.”

“So, I guess you’re just as hardcore in the bedroom as you are everywhere else, huh?”

“I guess so,” Steve replied even though he wasn’t entirely sure what Tony was getting at, and he was not about to further think about. Tony moved his fingers in the most wonderful way, sending new sensations to Steve’s cock and making the rest of his skin vibrate in pleasure. The second time Tony tried that little trick, Steve clenched down to hold his fingers still, so he could just _feel_ the way that made his body light up. “I now understand what you were getting at,” he told Tony. Tony just responded by dipping his head down and continuing the blowjob with as much gusto as before. “Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck, yes,” Steve whispered with all the words he could string together.

Tony pulled off, but his lips were so close Steve could feel the vibrations of his voice on his dick. “Remember, you can’t come till I say so.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve said breathlessly in acknowledgement as Tony continued. His fingers were moving faster now, and it felt fuller, better, and it wasn’t hard to focus his attention on the way Tony was working him open instead of Tony’s soft and wet mouth. That helped take the edge off. “Fuck me,” he asked without spending too much time thinking it through. What was left to doubt?

He felt grateful that Tony took that as a command, and removed both his fingers and his mouth and said, “I want to do that. Very much.” Tony was looking at him with this strange awe that made him squirm.

He was also, annoyingly, not moving forward. Steve scowled. “Then, what are you waiting for? A gilded invitation?”

Tony chuckled. “Of course,” he said to himself, like he was answering a question he’d been asking for a while. Steve would have probed him for more information, but Tony was now slathering a liberal amount a lube over his own cock and lifting Steve’s thighs around his waist before lining himself up. Steve placed a steadying hand on Tony’s hip and lightly tapped his ass with the heel of his foot, hoping it would encourage him to just get on with it.

“Oh,” Steve said as he felt Tony push in. Tony’s eyes scrunched but stayed trained on Steve. When he bottomed out, he let out a deep breath that hitched when he tried to breathe again. Steve thanked God and Dr. Erskine for his photographic memory, and then tried to adjust to the feeling. At first, it mostly just felt different, at least until Tony began to move and then it felt _amazing_.

The way Tony’s hips snapped forward was memorizing, and he couldn’t stop staring. He was awarded for his effort by getting to see how Tony bit his lip and then threw his head back before saying, loud and like the Secret Service wasn’t outside the door, “That’s so good, you’re so… so good, oh _fuck_ … fuck… it’s been too long.”

That surprised Steve. “Rea— _oh god_ —lly?” he managed to ask even though Tony had the most wonderful technique.

Tony leaned forward and Steve pushed himself up on his elbows to so he could take advantage of the proximity and kiss him. “Well, someone’s been cockblocking me,” Tony whispered into the side of his mouth, and then punctuated that statement with a roll of his hips that made Steve see stars. “Now, stay still,” he said and pushed Steve lightly back on the bed before wrapping a hand around his cock and pumping it in earnest. That elicited a groan from Steve. “You aren’t going to come, right?” Tony had picked up the pace and Steve nodded his head and tried desperately to push back the overwhelming sensation that was beginning to move across his skin. He closed his eyes because the sight of Tony naked and fucking into him was probably enough to do it.

Steve began repeating the batting averages of every player on the 1939 Dodgers, and when that stopped working he tried the 1940 Dodgers, and then the Yankees, and all of it just gave him a moment of reprieve. “Tony, oh god Tony…” he half-moaned, half-asked, “I’m not sure… god, _yes_ … I can make it.”

Tony just tightened his grip on his cock and moved faster and with more force into his ass. “Just…uh, a little longer, oh..kay, gorgeous?”

Steve didn’t respond, he didn’t have words or thoughts that weren’t just appeals to a higher power. Tony’s thrusts were getting erratic and the string of expletives more incoherent and Steve attempted to just feel it, to not think of anything else but Tony’s heavy breathing and the way he slid in and out, and his hand, tightly gripping the base of Steve’s cock.

“Steve, I’m gonna… now, you can come, come now,” Tony moaned, and his voice carried across the room. It took a few moments for Steve to change his internal monologue from _not yet, not yet_  to _yes, yes, yes_ , but then Tony’s head fell forward and his thrusts sputtered and slowed and Steve didn’t find it was hard, at all, to make his way over the edge.

He came. Hard. His breath stuttering and every muscle in his body simultaneously tightening and loosening until he felt like jello.

At some point when it was over, Tony had draped himself over him and breathed heavily into the crook of the neck. “That never works,” he mumbled into Steve’s skin.

“Huh?” Steve’s mind was as hazy as his bones.

“I’ve never seen someone hold off an orgasm that well. Should have known, you of the unbreakable will, could do it.” Tony was smiling at him like he was for some reason proud of this fact.

“Good punishment,” Steve decided and the way his chest clenched at how Tony was looking at him could only be happiness.

“Uh-huh. I’d do that again. You wouldn’t even have to misbehave next time,” Tony muttered and then he pushed himself out of, and then off of, Steve. Steve immediately missed the weight and warmth of him. He was drenched in sweat and the cold air-conditioning made him shiver. Even more concerning, Tony was limply standing up and wobbling to the bathroom.

Was this the moment Steve was supposed to leave? Now that it was over, Steve wasn’t sure what Tony expected of him. He had said something about ‘doing this right’ and mentioned ‘next time’, but Steve didn’t even have an idea what that meant. Reluctantly, Steve began to lift himself off the bed.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Tony said when he stepped out of the bathroom and saw Steve. “Lay back down and shut off what’s ever going on in that brain of yours.” Tony fell back into bed and pulled Steve with him, before wiping him down with a damp rag that he then promptly threw across the room.

His eyes were getting heavy. “I’m tired. Are you tired? Because you wore me out.” Somehow Tony had found a way to move Steve’s arm so that it was draped across his side, and Steve was laying behind him, his chest pressed to Tony’s back. “And I know you aren’t going to go back to that party looking like you just came from the set of the porno spoof of _The American President_. Let Carol take care of it.”

Steve wasn’t at all tired, but the idea of getting out of the bed _made_ him tired, so he let Tony pull him closer and in response, Steve delicately kissed a spot on the back his neck. They didn’t say anything. Steve didn’t really know what he’d want to say, anyway, but he thought Tony was unusually quiet. Or he did until Steve realized he was asleep.

Steve was content just lying there, nudged against the back of his head, and letting Tony get all that rest he was always needing. From this spot he saw a small scar on Tony’s scalp, just barely noticeable under all his hair. It must have been the point of incision for one of Tony’s surgeries. Reflexively he pulled Tony even closer and kissed the spot like it was precious.

“Help me out,” he implored Anthony, so soft, that even to him, the words were barely audible. “Keep him safe. I… I need him,” Steve admitted.

_Finally_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you mitochondrials for your amazing prompt. I hope you liked it!
> 
> Also, this story has a tumblr post now! It's [here](https://msermesth.tumblr.com/post/169439082549/a-proportional-response), if that's your thing.


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